Stranger Than Fiction
by Candaru
Summary: Following an address that he was told would lead to "a detective who specializes in strange mysteries," Tim Goodman finds himself at the doorstep of Katrielle Layton and co. However, neither group is prepared for the surprising truth that, as different as they may be, the mysteries that plague them... are almost identical. (Detective Pikachu/LMJ. No romance, rated T for safety.)


(A/N: If anything in either canon is off, please forgive me, I actually haven't finished Detective Pikachu yet nor have I seen the LMJ anime so X'D But this takes place like... during DP and right after the LMJ game, for my own convenience, so it should be fine!)

* * *

Tim groaned and rubbed his head as the morning sun glared in his eyes. It was a beautiful day, but the long overnight flights had done a number on the usually-cheerful boy's demeanor— not to mention the headache that had started throbbing since he woke up.

 _I'd better find a café with some good coffee soon or I'm going to collapse before I make it there… Pikachu is rubbing off on me._

He took another look at the envelope in his hand. Delicate but messy handwriting scrawled out the name of an address, guiding him down a quaint, colorful street with a homey atmosphere. Stores and eateries of different types lined the sidewalk with hand-painted signs describing their wares. Only a few had light from within them; the rest lay dark and abandoned, awaiting their staff and the start of the work day. Curiously, and to Tim's dismay, not one of the shops yet boasted selling any type of coffee.

 _This place really is foreign,_ he thought uncomfortably as he scanned down the street. Suddenly, he stopped, checking the envelope and looking to the left. He'd reached his destination, but somehow it felt… off. It didn't look at all like Mr. Baker had described it, for one, although he supposed it could've gone through some sort of remodeling. And secondly, if he peered down the street, there was a sign that _seemed_ to indicate a café of some sort… certainly one that would sell coffee… which would really help him sort out his surroundings…

"Why, hello, there!"

"AUGH!" Tim jumped back in surprise, startling the other person in turn.

"Eek! I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you!"

Tim rubbed his eyes and stared at the boy who cowered before him. _Surely_ he was hallucinating from the lack of sleep. Besides the time he'd been holding onto a talking Pikachu, the boy before him took the cake of the strangest encounter Tim could remember having. The boy (who looked maybe to be about Tim's age, although it was honestly hard to tell) was wearing a blue _vest_ over a long-sleeved, clean-pressed white shirt, blue _striped_ pants, polished brown shoes, a red bow-tie, and to top it all off, a strange, _green_ hairdo that reminded Tim strangely of a Pansage.

"H-hello," Tim stammered. "Uh, sorry for startling you… do I have the right address?" He held out the envelope, which the foreign boy took and studied for a moment.

"Well, I'll say! If the right address is the one in the middle of this envelope, then you've got the right place indeed, my friend." Tim noted his accent as he handed the paper back. "You don't seem to be from around here. Might I ask where you're from?"

"Somewhere a lot warmer than here," Tim laughed nervously. Was this really the right place? He'd kind of hoped to end up somewhere with a _normal_ staff, for once.

"Oh, my greatest apologies!" The boy cried. "Forgive me, I, I was so taken aback by a foreign face that I entirely forgot how chilly you must be. Please, do come in and have a seat; I'll pour you a cup of hot tea right away."

"Er— that's not—" Tim stammered.

"It's no trouble, I've already made the pot. It should be whistling any moment now!" the boy exclaimed cheerfully. Tim sighed and followed him in, sitting on a plush teal-and-white striped couch. He looked around the room while the boy fetched his tea; a large window (framed by what looked like expensive blue curtains) shone the morning light into the uniquely decorated parlor. A cork-board with red strings held up by pins caught Tim's eye; it looked just like the one in his dad's office. The one familiar sight comforted him somewhat, although it also reminded him what he came for in the first place. He squirmed a little in his seat, thinking about Pikachu.

 _Maybe I should've brought him along…_

"Here you are, sir!" The Pansage-haired boy set two cups of tea on the table in front of tea, as well as two iced scones on a small plate. At least _they_ looked appetizing. "This'll warm you right up. One lump or two?" He gestured to a small container at the side of the plate, apparently full of sugar.

"Um, this is fine, thanks," Tim said, picking up the cup and letting it warm his hands before taking a small sip. The boy shrugged and stirred two lumps of sugar in his own cup before drinking.

"I do apologize that Miss Layton isn't here yet," the boy said, as if Tim already knew who 'Miss Layton' was. "She has a habit of running late, you see, but it'll be well worth it once you meet her. She's the best detective this side of London— scratch that, the best detective in _all_ of London, and maybe the world for that matter!"

"Oh, so _she's_ the detective here?" Tim asked in relief, choosing not to think about how Pikachu would react to the statement about the 'world's best detective'. "I thought that was you."

"Me? Heavens no!" the boy exclaimed. "I'm merely her assistant, Ernest Greeves. I take care of little errands— opening the shop, cooking, cleaning, that sort of thing."

"It's nice to meet you, Ernest," Tim said, shaking his hand. For some reason that he couldn't quite place, he got an unsettling feeling like he was somehow shaking the hand of his reflection in a mirror.

A Pokémon barked, causing Tim to jump again and almost spill his tea. He'd been too focused on the corkboard and giant window to notice the small bed in the corner where a Pokémon was lying.

"Oh, come now," the green-haired boy entreated it. "Sorry about that," he said, turning to Tim, "I forgot to introduce you. This is Sherl, our agency mascot." The creature barked again, and Tim looked at it in amazement.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen that kind of Pokémon!" he exclaimed. Ernest tilted his head.

"Er… 'Pokémon,' sir?"

Tim narrowed his eyes, unsure if he was making a joke.

"Yeah, you know, creatures that live in harmony with humans? Sometimes wild, sometimes living in houses with us… like that?" He pointed to the stubby-legged creature, who he could almost swear was glaring at him. _If only Pikachu were here to tell me what he was upset about._

"Oh, I see. Here we just call them 'animals,'" Ernest said after a moment. "I thought at first I recognized your accent, though I must say, I really don't remember learning about the word 'Pokémon' in any of the languages I've studied. Would you mind telling me exactly where you came from?"

"It's a long ways off," Tim sighed. "I had to take multiple flights to get here from—"

"Sorry I'm late!"

A bell chimed a happy tune as the front door was opened by a girl with curly, light-brown hair and a beige trench-coat with a matching hat. (Actually, upon closer inspection, the hat was connected to a headband. Huh.) She breezed across the room confidently and, to Tim's surprise, took the scone right off Ernest's plate.

"Ooh, did you get scones? These look lovely!"

"Are they? Oh, I'm so glad my selection pleases you!" Ernest beamed. "There are more in the kitchen as well as a pot of tea. Shall I fetch you some?"

"Please do. I see that you've let in a client; I suppose he's been waiting for me." As if it were a well-rehearsed dance move, the cocky girl and Ernest traded places, Ernest taking his tea with him into the kitchen.

"I'm guessing you're Miss Layton," Tim supposed. _So much for "normal."_

"You would be right. Detective Katrielle Layton, to be more precise. I can solve any case, no matter how strange!" She took a sip of her tea in a dainty fashion and a bite of the scone in a much less dainty fashion.

"Phew, that's good," Tim said, "because my case is pretty strange. And I'm a detective myself."

Katrielle's eyes lit up. "Oh, are you now? That ought to make things more interesting. Please, go on."

"Well…" Tim sighed, a wave of nervousness washing over him. This would be the first time he'd ever told someone about Pikachu— but Pikachu himself had been getting more and more frustrated with the situation lately, and Tim hadn't had anyone to turn to for help until Mr. Baker gave him the address of "someone who specialized in strange cases." He hadn't even told Mr. Baker himself what had occurred; only that something so bizarre was going on, nobody would believe him.

"There's no need to be nervous," Ernest assured as he walked back into the room with Katrielle's tea. "Miss Layton is the finest detective around. There's not a case she hasn't cracked!"

"Including yours," the girl replied with a sly grin. The boy turned beet-red. Tim raised an eyebrow.

"If you say so," he sighed. "Okay… it started a few months ago, now."

"My dad— he's a detective, too, and he's helped a lot of people— went missing in a mysterious accident. Police couldn't find a definite cause."

Katrielle raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"But, I knew he had to be okay somehow. I moved to Ryme City, where he disappeared, to investigate on my own. That's… where things got weird."

At this point Tim expected a comment like 'that's not the weird part?,' but Katrielle stayed silent. _Well, this next part will really test how strange of a case she can handle._

"While I was there, I met a talking Pikachu." He glanced at Ernest. "Uh, Pikachu is an 'animal' where I live. The thing is, only _I_ can hear him talk."

Katrielle paused a moment, then took a slow sip of her tea. In the corner, Sherl started barking rapidly. She shot the Pokémon a look that shut it up.

"Is that so?" she asked calmly, turning back to Tim. The strange mirror-feeling washed over him again, sending a chill down his spine.

"U-um… yes," he said, trying to match the girl's calm composure. Not having Pikachu with him made him feel strangely insecure. "Apparently Pikachu used to be my dad's partner, so we teamed up together to find him."

"Shouldn't he know where your father is, if he belonged to him?" Katrielle interrupted. Tim shook his head.

"My dad went missing in a car accident, and Pikachu was with him. He must've gotten amnesia during the crash, because he doesn't remember anything before that point— although from what I remember, he used to be a normal Poké— animal."

"He's not normal anymore?" Katrielle asked, glancing at Sherl and Ernest. "What is he like now?"

"Well, for one, he talks. But only to me. Like I said. Um." Tim coughed. "He's really cocky, and walks on his hind legs. Also, he eats all the sweets we set out for the clients."

Ernest laughed. "Sounds like Miss Layton!"

"They help me think!" Katrielle argued through a bite of scone.

"He also drinks coffee?" Tim added. "Like, he's _really_ passionate about coffee. Almost as much as my dad was… heh…"

Suddenly, the detective girl's blue eyes seemed to glow. It felt to Tim as if they were staring straight past his body and into his soul. He felt an unfamiliar panicking feeling rising up in his chest.

 _This place is too unsettling… I have to get out of here._

"I know what you need," Katrielle said, breaking into his thoughts.

"Huh?!" Tim exclaimed.

"What you need," she said, standing up, "is to drink your tea before it gets cold."

Tim blinked. "Sorry, wh—"

"I'm going to get a refill scone. Be right back!"

And with a twirl of her trench-coat, Katrielle stole away to the kitchen, leaving Tim to process his thoughts.

"Don't mind her, please," Ernest said from the corner. He was kneeled over, scratching Sherl behind the ears. "Miss Layton has a rather curious method for solving cases. Sometimes you don't even know she's made any progress until she's solved them!"

Sherl barked loudly and Ernest stood up with a thoughtful look. "Yes, that is true…"

Tim froze.

"Um, Ernest? Who are you talking to?"

Ernest's face turned pale. "Oh… ah… my apologies, I'm not used to other people visiting here for long. We usually meet our clients on their own turf. I suppose I talk to myself often—"

"It's all right, Ernest." Katrielle emerged from the kitchen, seeming much calmer with another scone in hand. "I think if anybody deserves to know, it's Tim."

"Know what?" Tim asked.

"Tim… your story sounds frighteningly similar to Miss Layton's," Ernest said, walking over. Katrielle nodded.

"My father is also famous for solving mysteries," she explained.

"Really!?" Tim cried.

"Mm. He's also gone missing in a mysterious accident." Tim's jaw dropped. "And to top it all off, Sherl here also got in an accident and now has the ability to speak— although it's only Ernest and I who can understand what he says." Sherl barked proudly, and Tim realized his expression looked a lot like Pikachu's.

"He's also _incredibly_ annoying," Katrielle noted, "always pestering us about solving his case instead of the ones for clients who actually pay us money." Sherl made a remark that Tim could take a pretty good guess about.

"So, wait, did Sherl know your father?" Tim asked. Katrielle and Ernest exchanged a surprised look, like they hadn't considered the point.

"…Well, not as far as we know," Katrielle said, "but it's certainly possible."

There was an awkward silence as the three humans and one Pokémon pondered this strange development.

"But, wait," Tim realized, an edge of disappointment creeping into his voice. "If you don't know the solution to _your_ mystery, how are you supposed to know mine?"

Katrielle paused. She closed her eyes, as if concentrating carefully. Then a smirk played out on her face.

"You're not thinking about it the right way. What you _should_ be thinking is, is we solve _our_ mystery, we'll be able to find the answer to _yours—_ and vice versa."

"But I'm only here for a day!" Tim cried.

"Golly, you traveled all that way just for a day here?" Ernest exclaimed. "That's rather peculiar!"

"Mr. Baker said you'd be able to solve it right away," Tim replied, shuffling his feet, "and I'm kind of being kept busy in Ryme City right now… not to mention Pikachu doesn't know I'm here."

Sherl growled.

"I know, I should've told him," Tim snapped at the short creature, "but he probably would've insisted on coming, and I didn't know how I'd get him through airport security… I prefer to do things by the rules, if possible."

"Well, that's one way you differ from Miss Layton, at least," Ernest joked.

"I suppose," Katrielle interrupted, "that I could always mail you the solution to your case once I've worked it out. You'd need to mail me back my fee, of course…"

Sherl then let off a long string of barks and whines that Tim wished he could understand (although, maybe it was better he didn't).

"I will _too_ do the work!" Katrielle cried in a huff. "And besides, I'm hungry. I can't work when my blood sugar is low; I'm going to go grab a cake."

"Huh? You just ate two scones!" Tim exclaimed in surprise. His words didn't deter her from leaving once again. This time, Sherl followed, barking after her. Ernest and Tim stood awkwardly for a moment, when Ernest asked—

"Say, could I see that envelope again?"

Tim handed it over, anxiously reading the ponderous look in the servant-butler-assistant-person's eyes. Ernest studied it for several minutes, then started to laugh.

"Well, I'll say! I do believe you came to the wrong place after all, my friend."

"Huh?!"

"I thought it was curious you'd come to Miss Layton without being informed of her peculiar methods. Look at this handwriting," the boy said, pointing to the written address eagerly. "Although a bit similar, it's not Miss Layton's writing— I should know, I handle most of her mail. Who did you say gave you this envelope, again?"

"My boss, Mr. Baker," Tim replied.

"Tell me, does your boss have a daughter, by any chance?"

Tim blinked in surprise. "I think so! I've seen a framed photo of his wife and little girl on his desk a few times, although I think it's an older picture."

"Do you know her name?"

"Um… no, but in the picture she has red hair."

"Then I was correct!" Ernest cried, startling Tim. "Oh, ahaha, this is too funny— Miss Layton, come quickly!"

Katrielle came as called, chomping down on a small chocolate cake. "Did you figure out the case of the mixed-up addresses, Ernest?"

"I di— wait, you've already solved it?!"

She smiled. "Of course. Please, Ernest, you underestimate me."

"Truly astounding, Miss Layton!" Ernest exclaimed. "Would you care to explain, then?"

Katrielle nodded and took the envelope. "This letter," she said, pointing to it, "was originally from my friend Lucy Baker."

"Baker? As in—"

"Your boss's daughter, I believe," she finished, smiling. "She's also a detective, working under my brother at Scotland Yard. And since she works with my brother, she's been caught up in the family curse of strange and exotic cases. She writes me letters often about her findings."

"No kidding!" Tim exclaimed. "So when Mr. Baker handed me this envelope…"

"I think he wanted you to look at the _return_ address," Katrielle affirmed.

"But instead, you ended up here," Ernest said, "and ended up giving us a case that's practically identical to the one we've already been trying to solve for months! It's unbelievable!"

The girl took out a pad of paper and handed it to Tim. "Tim, would you write me your address so we can stay in touch if either of us finds a development on our cases? Yes, thank you. And Ernest, you ought to know better," Katrielle chastised. "Of course it's believable. After all, you should know by now…" she grinned. "The truth is stranger than fiction!"

* * *

Katrielle's final words rang in Tim's ears as he walked down the noisy street to the airport. The odd detective had insisted on spending the entire day showing him the sights of the area, not once referring to the mystery he'd come all this distance to solve. Had it not been for her enormous appetite and Ernest's gentle suggestions, he probably would have spent the whole day walking— not that he wasn't used to walking, but the distances from place to place were much greater and seemed to wear him out faster. He was actually looking forward to sitting down on the plane for once.

 _The truth is stranger than fiction, huh? I wonder what Pikachu would say to that. Then again… I'm not entirely sure I want him to know about this trip. He'd probably go berserk if he knew I flew this far away without him._

As he entered the airport, his resolve was made up. Exciting as the day had been, he was about ready to close his eyes and forget about the whole thing. Duplicate mysteries, a Pansage-looking boy, and the never-ending feeling that he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be?

 _For now, I think I'm content to stick to my own corner of the world. After all…_

 _It seems there are plenty of detectives around to cover the others._

* * *

(A/N: Hope you enjoyed, remember that reviews are food for my muse! And HAPPY NEW YEAR!)


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